


not too late to build it back

by Anonymous



Series: what i never saw coming [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: I mean, what’s the point of finally getting free will if you don’t get to use it?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: what i never saw coming [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162787
Comments: 13
Kudos: 459
Collections: Anonymous





	not too late to build it back

**Author's Note:**

> so despite my all-consuming love for this show i've never actually written for it before, and then the hot mess that was 15x20 happened and here we are with whatever this is

Sam doesn’t know how, out of the two of them, _Dean_ is the only one of them who’s had a heart attack.

Sure, Dean got electrocuted in a basement, so maybe the heart attack was justified. But after _years_ of Dean’s near-death—and actual-death—experiences, Sam isn’t sure he’s going to survive another one without cardiac damage.

He looks down at his phone. _I’ll be there in three hours_ , his last text from Eileen says. That was at eleven, an hour ago, and maybe it’s unfair of him to be most looking forward to her arrival so he can spectacularly fall apart in her arms, but Dean’s in a hospital bed after nearly bleeding out on rebar. The fact that Sam’s held it together this long is, frankly, impressive.

Sam shifts in his chair and takes another sip of his shitty hospital coffee. The _beep beep beep_ of Dean’s heart monitor reminds him that yes, they made it out of that barn, that they didn’t beat God himself just to get killed by vamps, that Sam drove fast enough, that Cas—

Sam hasn’t even processed Cas yet. Really, he never had a chance to process that Cas was _gone_. When Dean drove up by himself in the Impala, rambling about how the Empty—not Chuck—took Cas, Sam had been too devastated to give that a lot of thought. He knew it wasn’t the whole story, but he didn’t have time to badger his brother into giving up the details when the _entire world_ was dead because of them.

But after, though. After they beat God, no amount of wheedling—however gentle—could get Dean to tell Sam just how Cas managed to “summon the Empty” when, to his knowledge, there was no way to do so. Cas’ death left Dean’s edges more jagged than usual, and Sam was still a little caught up in the fact that he didn’t even get to say goodbye to his friend, so he left it alone.

Now Cas sits in a hospital chair on the other side of Dean’s bed, staring at Dean like—well, like even more intensely than how he _normally_ stares at Dean. Sam doesn’t know how Cas got out of the Empty or how he showed up to that godforsaken barn just in time or how he had just enough grace to keep Dean from dying but not enough to fix the hole in his back. Dean’s still breathing, so the details aren’t that important to him just yet.

He _does_ know that, after they got Dean off of the rebar but before they realized Cas’ juice wasn’t going to be quite enough, Dean latched a hand around Cas’ wrist and, because he was on a roll with heart-wrenching final words, choked out something like _you fucking idiot, you’ve always had me_. Which, on its own, didn’t clarify all that much to Sam. But then Sam had to watch Cas’ face crumple in a way he never wanted to see again, and as they slung Dean between them to drag him to the car, it left Sam with an inkling of what might have been said the last time Dean and Cas saw each other.

Sam shifts again, and this time Cas looks up at him.

“Thank you,” Sam says. Cas blinks, and Sam goes on. “I don’t— I don’t know how you came back, but if you hadn’t—” Sam doesn’t want to think about the _if you hadn’t_.

“Sam,” Cas says. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. For either one of you.” He says it like it’s a given, and Sam can’t think of anyone else in their lives who has committed to believing in them to the same extent that Cas has.

“And I’m— I’m also just glad _you_ are back too, you know that, right?” Cas looks surprised, and yeah, he and his brother suck at telling people when they care about them, but Cas is his _friend_ and he deserves to know that. “I’m not _just_ glad that you’re back because you fixed Dean. You’re _family_ and I _missed_ you and I didn’t get to say goodbye to you and I’m just— glad you’re back, too.” They sit quietly for a moment.

“I don’t really know how I’m back,” Cas finally admits. “I am glad to be, but I don’t know how it happened. I had assumed you and Dean may have been involved but given that you were… _distracted_ when I arrived, perhaps Jack…?” Cas trails off. “I miss him,” he finishes.

Sam ignores the sharp pang in his chest that he feels whenever he thinks about Jack. “Me too,” he says, and then he and Cas slip into comfortable silence.

He glances down at his phone. It’s pushing one in the morning, now, and Eileen should be there in another hour. Sam settles back into his chair to wait.

* * *

Dean wakes up and his back is on fire. Or, at least that’s what it feels like—everything is kind of blurry. But really, he wasn’t expecting to wake up at all, so maybe the back-on-fire feeling is an improvement.

He looks to his right and sees Sam. His brother is a giant but here, scrunched up in a plastic hospital chair, he looks small. He’s tilted to one side and his head is resting on Eileen’s shoulder. Both of them are out cold.

“Dean.”

A voice—such a _familiar voice_ —to his left, and Dean is scared to turn his head because he never thought he’d hear that voice again and he doesn’t want to shatter whatever hallucination he must be having because—

But he turns his head anyway because after that day in the basement Dean told himself he’d stop being so much of a coward, and this is either a _fantastic_ hallucination or Cas is _sitting right there_ and—holding his hand?

“Dean,” Cas says again, like it’s the best word he’s ever said.

“Cas,” says Dean. He stops, tries to think through how he got here, how _Cas_ got here, but comes up short. “What—?”

Cas seems to sense his disorientation. “You almost _died_ ,” he says, very clearly annoyed about it, “ _again_ , fighting _vampires_ in a _barn_ , and I walked through the door to find you _impaled_ ,” and maybe it’s not annoyance, maybe it’s distress, or maybe it’s both. Cas looks down like he’s disappointed in himself. “I couldn’t heal you, not really, I was barely able to keep you alive long enough for Sam and I to get you here, and I—”

Dean squeezes Cas’ hand when he cuts himself off. Cas looks at their hands like he’s surprised their fingers are still linked together and goes to tug his hand away until Dean tightens his grip even more.

“We should maybe start avoiding barns, then,” Dean says, and he can see the moment Cas remembers Dean’s stab-first-ask-questions-later approach to their very first meeting. Cas looks at him like he’s _insane_ , and maybe Dean’s high on painkillers right now but all he can think is that Cas can look at him however he wants as long as he keeps looking.

“Gonna sleep some more,” Dean mumbles, and he burrows back down into the hospital bed. His back still hurts but he’s fuzzy enough that he thinks he’ll be able to drift back off. “Don’t leave,” he says, and pulls Cas’ hand closer to his chest and then he’s asleep again.

* * *

Four days and one seriously disgruntled doctor later, Sam pulls the Impala into the bunker’s garage and gets out to help Dean out of the passenger’s seat. Dean already has the door open and looks ready to resist Sam’s help until he twists to the side to get out of the car. Sam sees him tense up in pain and swoops his shoulders under Dean’s arm and hauls him up before Dean can complain about it.

Cas and Eileen are out _grocery shopping_ , and he’s not quite sure why the two of them bonding scares him so much, but it means no one is home as Sam helps Dean to his room and onto his memory foam.

Miracle comes barreling into the room when he hears the sound of Dean’s voice, but seems to know something’s wrong because he slows down before jumping onto Dean, opting instead to hop onto the bed and curl up by Dean’s side.

Sam gets Dean painkillers and water and gets him situated, and then keeps standing there.

Dean notices quickly that Sam doesn’t intend to go anywhere—either to leave the room or to sit down. “What’s up?” he asks.

Sam stays quiet for another few moments. He’s been _thinking_ about this, about what he wants to say and how he wants to say it, ever since Dean gave his _stupid_ goodbye speech while hanging off a piece of metal.

“I thought about asking you to come with me,” he says. “To Stanford.”

“Sam—” Dean gears up to interrupt, but Sam barrels on.

“No, no, you don’t get to pull the no-chick-flicks card, Dean,” Sam says. “You _got_ your chick flick in that fucking barn, but _I_ have things to say, _too_.” He scrubs a hand over his face and starts again. “I wanted you to come with me. I knew you’d never leave Dad but I wanted you to come with me. I wanted out of the life but I never meant to leave you behind, too, and I’m sorry I made you feel like I did.”

Dean’s staring at him with wide eyes like it’s taking him physical effort to keep quiet and let Sam get this out.

Sam takes a shaky breath and keeps going. “You said you looked up to _me_ , but you _have_ to know I’ve been looking up to you since the second I was born. You— I hated the life we were living, but you kept me fed, you kept me happy, you helped me with my homework no matter how much you said you hated math, you’re the _reason_ I was even able to go to Stanford in the first place because without you… I don’t even know who I’d be. And— and I was standing there, watching you _die_ in my _arms_ , and all I could think was that it didn’t even matter that we’d stopped God himself to write our own story because that story wouldn’t matter if you weren’t in it.”

Dean regards him for a minute and Sam feels flayed open. They don’t _do_ this kind of talk if one of them isn’t dying, and Sam doesn’t know if Dean even wanted to deal with what he told Sam with his dying breaths or not, but Sam’s response—everything he wanted to say and didn’t have time to in that barn—is out in the open, now.

Finally, Dean’s mouth quirks up. “C’mere,” he says, and opens his arms wide.

Sam throws himself—gently—into his brother’s arms and holds tight. Since Dean’s back hit that rebar to Cas showing up to help him get Dean to the hospital, Sam’s been running on adrenaline. Now, he shakes with relief because Dean is _still here_.

“Hey,” Dean says a few moments later when Sam still hasn’t let go, “do you think that story you were talking about could include some non-hunting jobs?”

Sam lurches back, stares at Dean’s face to try and see if he means it. “Are you serious?” he asks. “I thought I was going to have to _convince_ you to stop.”

Dean shifts, and winces. “Yeah,” he says, “a few years ago I would have thought that, too. But, uhh, after we beat Chuck, I was thinking about… I don’t know, finding a job in town or something.” His eyes flick towards his desk where Sam sees a job application partially filled in. “And after this hunt— I mean, what’s the point of finally getting free will if you don’t get to use it?”

“ _Good_ ,” Sam says, overwhelmed with relief. “We are _retiring_ , we are _done_ , I swear to god I’m _not_ watching you die like that again.”

Dean laughs. “Trust me, I’d _also_ rather not do that again.”

They sit in comfortable silence until Dean’s eyes start to drift closed again.

“I’m going to let you rest some more,” Sam says. “Plus, Cas and Eileen should be back soon with groceries, and you remember what happened _last_ time someone let Cas put the food away.”

He helps Dean lay all the way down and pulls the blanket over him. Dean looks irritated to be treated like a child, but he also must realize that Sam is at the end of his rope and cooperates well enough.

“I expect burgers when I wake up, bitch.”

Sam grins on his way out the door. “Get back on your feet and you can make them yourself, jerk.”

* * *

Dean wakes up again—and it felt like all he’d been doing was sleeping these days—to Cas sitting in the chair next to his bed. No— _dozing_ in the chair next to his bed.

Angels don’t _doze_.

“Cas?” Dean says, and goes to shift into a sitting position. That twinges his back, though, and he groans, but before he can fall back against the bed there are hands helping him sit up.

“Easy, Dean,” Cas says, and shoves a pillow behind his back before pulling away. “Are you okay?”

“Better than I was,” Dean says, and Cas frowns at that. Dean shifts the subject back away from his near-demise. “Are _you_ okay? You haven’t… needed _sleep_ in a while.”

“Um,” Cas says eloquently.

“Are you human again?” Dean asks. He doesn’t know how Cas got out of the Empty but if he’s human now then Dean’s going to do it _right_ this time, he’s not letting Cas out of his sight.

“I don’t think so,” Cas says, but he sounds unsure. “I have some grace. I used it to keep— to keep you alive,” he stumbles over, “but I’m not. I don’t feel like an _angel_ anymore. I think… I’m something in between.”

Cas says it like it’s a bad thing, like it’s something to be ashamed of. Dean thinks that ever since Cas met them, he’s _always_ been a little bit in between. It’s part of what made Dean—

“How are you back?” Dean asks, slowly steering the conversation towards the one he simultaneously dreads and wants the most.

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know. I _thought_ it might have been you and Sam, at first, but Sam said it wasn’t, so— so it must have been Jack?”

“Makes sense,” says Dean. “You’re basically his dad, he wouldn’t have wanted you to stay there.” Dean steels himself for the next bit. “We tried, you know. To get you out. We looked through everything we had on the Empty—which wasn’t much. But. We weren’t going to _leave_ you there,” Dean finishes almost desperately. Cas _has_ to know they were coming for him.

Surprise flits across Cas’ face. “I. I didn’t know if you would… want me back. After. After what I said.”

Dean thinks, suddenly, that it’s not surprising at _all_ that it took them this long—twelve years—to get to this point. They’re a mess.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean starts. “ _First_ of all, whatever I thought about what you said, you know you deserve to be saved, too, right? We were going to get you out no matter what. And second, I mean, you _heard_ me in that barn, didn’t you?”

“You said— you said I always had you. But I—well I _never_ meant for you to feel obligated to return my sentiments, Dean. And I didn’t know— I didn’t know if it was something you would still mean if you survived or if you only said it because you were dying.” Cas looks away, like he’s waiting for Dean to let him down easy.

Dean looks at him in exasperation. “Did _you_ mean it? When you said—it, when the Empty was taking you? Or did _you_ just say it because you were never going to see me again?”

Cas looks offended. Which is ridiculous—if Cas can ask Dean if he’s sure then so can Dean. “Of course I meant it,” says Cas. “I doubt the Empty would have been able to take me if it wasn’t true.”

“I meant it, too.” Dean swallows, nervous. “Cas. Castiel. I don’t. I’m not— good at this. But I don’t want… _loving_ each other to be something we only do in last words, you know? I want you for the whole story, not just the ending.”

Dean forces his eyes to stay locked on Cas’, because that was _embarrassingly_ corny, but he _promised_ himself he’d stop being a coward about Cas, and Cas is—

Cas is looking at him like. Like _Dean_ is the one who makes the sun shine in Cas’ universe. Dean doesn’t know what to do with that kind of love.

And that’s what this is. That’s what it’s _always_ been, ever since— well, ever since sometime during Apocalypse 1.0, probably. And Cas deserves to hear it out loud.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean says, and he’s proud that his voice only shakes a little bit. “I _love_ you, I’m _in_ love with you, and maybe I taught you how love works but you taught me how to be something worth loving because no one can spend time with you and not want to be so _good_ , and—”

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas breathes, but Dean doesn’t let him finish because he grabs Cas’ tie—his _stupid_ tie, how is it even still in one piece after _everything_ —and yanks Cas forward and Cas— Cas takes the hint and presses his lips to Dean’s after only a split second hesitation.

Cas pulls back for air, eventually, and goes back to looking at Dean like he’s the most important thing in the universe.

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I know,” says Dean, and he grins because _yes_ , he’s Han Solo, and Cas squints at him and opens his mouth to snark back, but Miracle hops up on the bed before he can.

Cas blinks down at him. “You have a dog?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah? He’s been here the whole time, where have _you_ been?” Dean responds, because yeah Cas was in the Empty but he’s also been back for almost a week.

“You were in the hospital,” Cas says slowly, like Dean’s being intentionally obtuse. “I’ve been with you.”

And that. Well. Dean’s pretty sure the dopey smile on his face speaks for itself, but he tugs Cas back towards him anyway.

* * *

“Sam,” says Eileen. “Come with me.”

Sam looks up to see a massive grin on Eileen’s face. “What?”

“Come with _me_ ,” she says again, and grabs his hand. She tugs him out of the kitchen and down the hallway to Dean’s room.

“I was going to check on Dean,” she says, “but I think Cas has it covered.”

Eileen grins again, then quietly cracks Dean’s door open for Sam to peek through and— oh.

There’s no better word for what’s happening than _snuggling_. Dean is lying on his back with his arm around Cas, who is burrowed close into Dean’s side. Their faces are turned towards each other, and they’re both fast asleep. 

Sam’s eyes bug out for half a second, and then he very quietly grabs his phone to snap a picture of Cas and his brother. Miracle, sprawled across Dean’s feet, pads off the bed to follow Sam before he closes the door again.

“That’s _so_ going on the Christmas card,” Eileen says as she and Sam walk back to the kitchen.

They sit back down at the table. It is covered in pizza boxes filled with half-eaten pizzas; Sam _meant_ to cook, but after bringing Dean home, he felt suddenly exhausted. And with Dean sleeping, it meant no one was around to make fun of him for indulging in crappy pizza. Miracle sits to the side waiting for pizza crust.

“So now what?” Eileen asks eventually.

Sam thinks about it. “I don’t know,” he starts. “I mean— Dean says he wants to retire. And. I think I do, too. But I don’t… really know what that looks like. For me. The last few times I got out I chased normal so hard I didn’t feel like _me_ anymore, and I don’t know where to go from here.”

Eileen nods, and Sam watches her consider what she wants to say. “I think I know how you feel. Even after I avenged my parents, I never really tried anything other than hunting. But I think I want to try, or at least try to hunt less. And I think I want to try with you— if you want that, too.”

Sam thinks of Dean, who’s still alive despite the best efforts of a jagged piece of metal; of Cas, who against all odds has returned from the dead once again; of Miracle, the dog he never thought he’d actually get to have; and of Eileen, sitting in front of him ready to brave a Chuck-free world with him. He thinks this must be what home feels like.

“I want that,” Sam says and signs at once. “I want that a lot.”

He leans forward to kiss her, and he’s never felt this free in his life.

* * *

Cas wakes up confused, at first. To be fair, now that he’s human-ish and has to sleep, waking up confused is pretty par for the course, right now. Sleeping is weird when you never had to do it much before.

He twists a little on the very squishy bed he’s sleeping in and—

And Dean’s face is just above his own where he’s tucked into Dean’s side. He’s still asleep, which isn’t surprising given the painkillers he’s on, and his breath tickles Cas’ nose. The knot of terror that had been tangled up in Cas' chest ever since he popped back into existence outside the barn where Dean was _dying_ finally unspools entirely. It feels peaceful, for the first time in a very long time. He didn't think he'd get to have this.

Cas could stay here forever if it weren’t for the irritating human need to urinate, so he unhappily drags himself up and out of the bed and shuffles towards the bathroom.

He runs into Sam on his way back out.

“Morning, Cas!” Sam says. Sam is always unbearably cheery in the mornings according to Dean, but he seems to be smiling even brighter than normal.

“Good morning, Sam,” Cas responds.

“How did you sleep last night?” asks Sam, and Cas doesn’t understand why Sam’s face looks so smug but—

Cas feels himself flush. “I slept fine,” he says, and goes to duck past Sam.

“Hey, wait, man,” Sam grabs his arm and tugs him in the opposite direction of Dean’s room. “Eileen and I are making breakfast, come join us.” When Cas hesitates, Sam adds, “we’re making some for Dean, too. We were gonna bring it to his room when we were done.”

Cas thinks Dean will appreciate the gesture, and he also thinks that they _all_ need this—Dean came home from the hospital and was asleep when he and Eileen got back from the store, and there hasn't been time for them all to sit together and process their overall alive-ness. He nods in acquiescence and follows Sam to the kitchen where Eileen is frying bacon.

“Morning, Cas,” she says, and Cas signs _good morning_ back to her. “Want to throw some toast in the toaster?”

Cas nods, because while he is unfamiliar with a lot of cooking, he _can_ use the toaster, thank you very much _Dean_. It wasn’t his fault it caught on fire that one time.

He watches as Sam stacks up a bunch of poorly-shaped pancakes and dumps some sort of fruit compote on them. Sam never moves further than arm’s reach away from Eileen, and he keeps bumping into her but she doesn’t seem to mind.

The toaster _dings_ , and out pops the toast that Cas adds to the breakfast spread. He repeats the process twice more while Eileen finishes the bacon and Sam pours berries in a bowl, and then everything is ready.

They haul the food down to Dean’s room, and Sam barges in without knocking. Cas follows in behind him, and he watches Dean’s face scrunch up in confusion and irritation at the light.

“Son of a _bitch_ , what—”

“Breakfast!” Sam interrupts, as though that alone explains the disruption to Dean’s sleep. “We brought breakfast.”

“I can see that,” Dean grumbles. He turns his head to the side and squints disappointedly at the empty half of the bed. The half that Cas occupied last night. He finds Cas in the room behind Sam, and his eyes dart between them quickly, clearly unsure about what he wants to reveal in front of Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Eileen, come sit by me,” he says, and strides over to the chair beside Dean’s bed. Eileen follows him with an extra chair she brought from the kitchen that she plops down beside Sam’s, and Cas is left hovering in the middle of the room because he didn’t _also_ think to bring a chair. Dean glares at Sam, and Sam smiles serenely back at him.

Cas gets ready to double back to the kitchen for a third chair when Dean breaks his staring contest with Sam. “Cas, just… uh. Just come sit with me, man. But I swear to god if you spill food on my bed you’re cleaning it up.” His face is bright red but he’s looking at Cas hopefully. As if Cas were physically capable of denying him anything.

He helps Dean sit up again and then carefully slides into the bed next to Dean. He leaves an inch of space between them at first, but Dean keeps watching him and Cas may not be able to _sense_ longing anymore but he can _see_ it on Dean’s face, so he scooches closer until their legs and sides are pressed together.

Sam is grinning at the two of them but realizes that now is not the time to make a big deal about this latest development. Instead, he passes plates of food over to Dean and Cas. “Dean, you of all people have no room to talk about spilling food in bed when I walked in to a motel room one time to find you passed out surrounded by spaghetti."

“Shut _up_ , Samuel, you don’t want to play this game with me in front of your _girlfriend_.”

“Really, Dean, because I think I could embarrass you just as much in front of your _boyfriend_.”

Dean doesn’t even flinch, apparently deciding that Sam is just going to roll with this. Their bickering continues and Cas glances over at Eileen, who’s watching Sam with the same fond look he knows he makes towards Dean. He laughs as Dean complains about _fruit_ on his _pancakes_ , _seriously_ , Sam, and he steals a piece of bacon off of Dean’s plate and sneaks it to Miracle when he’s not looking. If this is what writing your own story entails, Cas thinks, it doesn’t seem that bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> anyways i would die for these characters but 15x20 can bite me


End file.
